New Plan
by Name Not Specified
Summary: There comes a time in everyone's life when their plan has to change. I just wish MY plan would make up its stupid mind. It's my first, so please R&R if you can. OC, character's POV.
1. Okay, New Plan

_Disclaimer: The concepts, characters, plot lines and anything else in this story that you recognise are copyright Marvel Comics. Anyone or anything you don't recognise is mine._

* * *

This is NOT how I planned my life would go. MY plan had 3 major requirements:

1. Meet a nice boy to marry by the time I'm 30,

2. Get a good job that pays well, and

3. DON'T FIND OUT I'M A MUTANT WHEN I'M 16.

Yeah, ok. That last one wasn't originally part of my top 3, but after what's just happened; it got moved up the list.

I guess I should begin at the beginning like most normal people would. Then again, I'm not exactly normal anymore, so I can start wherever the hell I like, I guess. So, before I proceed, you must know that I'm only starting at the beginning out of the kindness of my own heart.

* * *

It was a Wednesday. Quite possibly the worst day on my timetable. The bell had just gone for the lunch break, and I couldn't possibly get out of a classroom faster. I would have been in the cafeteria quick as a gunshot if it weren't for Nathan. He fell down in front of me and nearly made me trip and kill myself.

"Nice work Nate." I swear I could _taste_ the venom. "Don't worry; one day, you might actually learn how to walk."

I know, I was a complete jerk-ette to Nathan, but before you get all up in arms about this, there is a vague sort of a reason for it.

See, the school I went to was partial a particularly anti-mutant atmosphere. You didn't stand a chance of making it to graduation unless you could prove to the majority that you were... 'pro-human', if you know what I'm saying. Nathan had horns growing out of his head, so he was the one most of us chose to use as a punching bag.

I know that's no excuse, but it was survival of the fittest in a big way.

Nathan gave me the dirtiest look I have ever been on the receiving end of, but I just turned and kept walking, my relatively happy mood completely thwarted by Nathan's assassination attempt. All I wanted was to sit down and eat my lunch.

But of course, the universe saw fit to punish me further. I was halted in my path by the ever so swan like, Ms. Griffiths. Of course, when I say swan like, I mean an evil demon possessed swan, which, as it turns out, isn't actually a swan at all, but really the ugly duckling in a Halloween costume.

"Seven Taylor," I resisted the urge to congratulate her on finally learning my name after teaching me for five years straight. "The principle has requested that you go to the front office immediately."

Oh man, are you serious? I thought I already got in trouble for that incident with the jam.

I threw my head back dramatically and trudged off towards Mr. Hawks' office.

* * *

After walking into three walls, I decided that maybe I should let my head back into its rightful position.

I was just about to turn into the principle's office and launch into a speech about the unfair treatment of students who have already paid their debt to society, when I saw the familiar shape of my mother waiting in the foyer next to Mr. Hawks.

I paused for a moment. Mr. Hawks was talking to her, but she kept checking her watch and biting her lip. Something was wrong.

I had to assume that this was the reason I'd been called to the office in the first place, so, despite the disappointment that I wouldn't get to deliver the speech I'd prepared, I walked towards them.

Before I could even say something to the effect of, 'hey, Mum, aren't you supposed to be at work?' she'd grabbed me by the hand and started dragging me outside. She mumbled a 'thank you' of some kind to Mr. Hawks but didn't stop to hear the rest of what he was saying.

Faster than I thought was physically possible we were in the car and she was turning the key in the ignition.

"Um, you know – I think people are meant to sign out before they leave the school grounds." I made a motion to get back out of the car, but it had already started and we began to drive away. "I'm sure that's fine, though. We don't have to really worry about it."

For the first half of the trip there was silence. Mum had to bite her tongue to stop herself from shouting at red traffic lights. Whenever I wasn't looking, I could see her staring at me in the reflection on the window, but as soon as I turned around she avoided eye contact. I just thought that she would tell me what was going on as soon as we were in the car, so for the first five minutes I just kept quiet. When she started beeping her horn at a little old grandma who pulled in front of us, I thought I'd waited long enough.

"Ok, WHAT is going on?" I had to pry her palm off the steering wheel to get her to focus on me.

This was the first time I noticed how much she was shaking.

"Seven," she swallowed and focused her eyes forward. "There are some people at our house-"

Her voice quit on her as her eyes started tearing up. So many thoughts flashed through my mind at that moment. Who were they? Jehovah's Witnesses, debt collectors, the Russian mafia?

"Mum?" I put a hand on her shoulder and saw her flinch. I don't quite know why, but that hurt me deep down. She was _afraid_ of me.

"They say they're here to invite you to go to their school." Oh. Okay, fine. Don't quite understand why you're making such a big deal out of it though. "It's a school for mutants, Seven."

...

Oh, bad-word.


	2. Flat Out Denial

What's the best way to deal with any bad news? Flat out denial, of course!

Mum practically ran into the house so I had to shout as I followed her into the living room.

"Mum, I'm not a mutant! I–"

I stopped suddenly seeing the people who she'd been talking about. I couldn't believe she was taking the word of a bald guy in a wheelchair, a redhead woman and a tall guy with sunglasses, over the word of her own daughter.

I fell into a stunned silence while the tall guy pulled out something like a Gameboy and pointed it at me. It made a high pitched beeping noise which made me cover my ears until the man finally shut the stupid thing off.

"It appears we were correct," the bald guy told my mother as though I wasn't even in the room.

Mum covered her mouth and sat down on the lounge. I could see her fighting back the tears.

"C-can you do anything to help her?"

The redheaded woman looked a bit irritated by this and shook her head.

"There's nothing wrong with her. She just has a mutation, that's all."

Baldy stepped in again. "We can, however, offer her a roof over her head and a chance to learn to control her abilities."

That's when my brain kicked back into gear.

"Whoa! Wait just a second, I am NOT a mutant," I stated strongly. I looked at my mother and waved a hand at the three strangers. "Look at them. Mutants have weird physical deformities." I lifted my arms up and presented myself. "Do I look deformed to you?"

She went pale.

"What's that?"

Oh, crap. I'd forgotten. I'd have to try and confuse her.

"What's what?" I dropped my arms back down to my sides and pulled my jumper sleeve down further over my wrist.

"There was something there, on your arm."

"No there wasn't," was all I got out before she grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward for a closer look.

She pushed my sleeve up my arm roughly, revealing the raw red mark down the edge of my forearm. In amongst all the red and pink skin that had been peeling away for the last month, you could see the bare white of the bone just peeking through. I'd tried to ignore it, but when your bones start growing up through your skin, it's a little harder to ignore than you might think.

Mum did all she could to hold back a scream as she let go of my arm. I quickly pulled my sleeve back down and kept my head directed firmly towards the floor.

"Evidence of how your mutation is manifesting itself," Baldy stated quietly as though he knew he should hold it back but just couldn't manage it.

Mum gathered her thoughts and put on a strong face. "Seven, I want you to go to your room and pack some clothes. You need to be back down here in two minutes to leave with Professor Xavier. Your dad will be home soon, so you have to be quick, understand?"

"What!? No way! Can't I just—"

"SEVEN!" There was more urgency in her voice this time. "You KNOW how your dad feels about mutants."

He was the one who chose my school.

She looked me in the eye for the first time since she'd picked me up. "Please."

My vision went blurry as I felt my eyes start to fill with tears. This time MY voice quit and so I just nodded and ran quietly up the stairs to my room.

I couldn't think. I didn't _want_ to think. So I just focused on what I was doing. I grabbed anything I could. I stuffed anything into my school bag that would fit. Clothes, photos, my toy dog Atticus. I managed to finish in under a minute and a half. I wiped my runny nose on my sleeve and headed downstairs again.

But something was wrong. I mean, something _apart_ from all the disastrous things that had already happened was wrong.

I could hear another voice coming from the living room. It was a male voice that I'd known my entire life. But that meant…

Dad was home.

* * *

I just stood there frozen on the stairs as I listened.

I could hear Dad shouting something, so I guessed someone had been stupid enough to tell him.

"Adam, please; just calm down." Mum was pleading with him, but he just ignored her and kept going.

It was when my lungs started hurting that I realised I'd been holding my breath. I jumped the rest of the stairs, my bag slapping against my back painfully as I landed. I got into the living room just in time to hear my father ordering the strangers to get out of the house.

"Dad, stop!" I realised too late that I shouldn't have drawn attention to myself.

Silence. There was a moment of tense, terrifying silence as my dad turned to face me, his once love filled eyes burning with new found hatred. I was too frightened to move. He grabbed me by the shoulders and slammed me against the wall. My head seared with pain as I felt it smack indelicately into the plaster.

"You." His face was about three inches from mine, but he still felt the need to bark at the top of his lungs.

This was the only time I can ever remember being scared of my father. Angry, frustrated, infuriated, sure. But I'd never once been scared of him. Until now.

"You've destroyed this family, you little bit-"

He stopped talking and just started fuming as a hand landed on his shoulder. It was Tall-guy.

"Mr. Taylor, you need to step away from your daughter, right now." There was a kind of warning in his voice I'd never heard before.

"Get the hell off me!" Dad snarled, ripping away from the man's grip. "And get the hell out of my house." He turned to give one last disgusted look at me. "All of you."

I could barely move and didn't really want to, so the redheaded woman had to take my arm and drag me in order to get me out. As soon as we were out the door, it was slammed behind us.

I was on the verge of crying again, biting my tongue to stop myself. I clenched my jaw as I felt fury welling up inside me. Without really thinking, I made my bag more comfortable on my shoulder and began walking away from the three whose fault it was.

"Seven? Aren't you coming with us?" The woman sounded concerned but I didn't care.

"Nope."

"Then where will you go?" Xavier's distinctive voice.

"Somewhere else."

They could offer whatever the hell they wanted, but NOTHING could make me go with them. Money, shelter, food warmth; I didn't care. I didn't want any of that from _them_.

_~Then what about a place where you'll fit in._

I stopped mid step as his voice echoed inside my head.

_~A place you might find a home, or even a_ _family._

It took a while to process what had just happened. He read my thoughts and spoke inside my head. That was weird. But it meant they were mutants. I couldn't necessarily trust them as people, but if they were mutants, then it severely reduced my chances of dying in a 'terrible accident'.

I took another huge sniff and turned my head to look at them. I knew that with them I stood a far better chance than if I was on my own.

"Fine," I said after a long pause. "I'll go with you." I thought again, then added, "For now, at least."

Xavier smiled.

"I'm glad to hear it."

* * *

As it turned out, they were parked just around the corner on the public sports field.

Now, I thought briefly that this was an odd place to park their car. That is, until I lifted my head long enough to notice the FREAKING HUGE JET they'd landed in the middle of the grass field.

"Seven," Tall-guy said, smiling for the first time since I'd seen him. "This is the Blackbird."

I don't actually remember any walking between being outside and standing inside the jet, but then I was a little distracted by the FREAKING HUGE JET.

Tall-guy sat down in the pilot seat and started flipping some switches. When a red light started flashing and making 'barp barp' noises, I began wondering if he was actually capable of getting this thing off the ground.

"Scott?" I swear, one word from Xavier and every person around him snapped to attention.

"Something hit the windshield, Professor. Whatever it was didn't do any damage, but maybe we should check it out anyway."

Curiosity got the better of me and I wandered over to the window to see what was happening. It was Dad and his idiot friends throwing rocks. He must have called them right after we'd left.

I felt a deep sinking feeling in my stomach as I remembered the afternoon's events. I guess I'd gotten distracted by all the shiny lights and gadgets and forgotten what was really happening. If seeing Dad again hadn't jolted me back to the real situation, then a rock smashing apart on the windshield right in front of my face certainly did the job.

"Jean."

"I'm already putting it in the computer as a hostile area, professor." They spoke quietly, as if that would make a difference to whether I heard them or not.

"You might want to strap in for take off." Tall-guy stated to everyone, making a good excuse for me to slip away.

I took a seat further back in the jet, away from the others. I didn't really feel comfortable with them knowing what was going on between me and my family. As supportive and understanding as they tried to seem, I just couldn't push past the fact that they were complete strangers to me.

The jet steadied off and I released my seat belt. It wasn't long after that I heard the electronic buzz of a way overpriced wheelchair as it rolled towards me.

"Try and get some sleep, Seven." The Professor said quietly. "It's been a long day, and it'll be an even longer week."

I nodded mutely and promptly lay down. Don't get me wrong, I would've liked nothing more than to stubbornly refuse and do the opposite of what he said, but the truth was, the day had completely wiped me out. So, even if I had refused, I would've fallen asleep anyway.

* * *

I stayed in the same curled up position for at least an hour. I wasn't asleep, just distracting myself with any scrap of thought that crossed my mind. After about forty minutes of silence, someone finally spoke.

"Why are you looking so worried, Jean?" Tall-guy.

Then, after a pause, "I'm just not sure how she's going to cope, that's all."

"She'll be fine." His voice was warm and reassuring. "She seems like a tough kid and the rest of us all came out okay, didn't we?"

"Yeah. You're probably right."

Then there was a _really_ long pause.

"And, Scott—"

"No, Jean; you don't look hideously deformed."


	3. Land of the Living

A/N: Yeah, this chapter might be a little bit slow, but I feel like the information was necessary. Also, if people could take the time and give me some tips on how to improve, that would be fantastic.

* * *

You know that really weird feeling you get from falling asleep in one place and waking up in another?

I'd experienced it before, but I never thought it could hurt.

I sat up on the – whatever the hell it was I'd been sleeping on – and tried to get my bearings.

This was difficult at first, considering that the room was too dark for me to actually see in, and also taking into account my blinding headache. I guess my head was probably just hurting from where my fath- well, from where it hit the wall, anyway.

Gradually, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could finally take a look around at the room I'd woken up in. Don't get too excited though, it wasn't anything special. In fact it was surprisingly… ordinary.

I was in a lounge room, set up on the couch with a few blankets and a spare pillow thrown down, no doubt to make me more comfortable. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and struggled to my feet, rubbing the painful spot on the back of my head.

I heard the squeak of an old sofa bed, and my head darted to the left. It hurt to focus my eyes too much, so I could only just make out the lump of blankets, which I'm gonna go ahead and guess was another person.

I felt my heart stutter back to a normal speed, and got a fix on the location of the door. The glowing light creeping through the crack under it was what gave it away, really.

I fumbled for the doorknob (which is an exceptionally difficult thing to find in the dark) and opened it just far enough that I could squeeze myself though the gap. I was doing my utmost best to not make too much noise; I didn't want to wake the other person up.

Having clipped the door quietly shut behind me, I turned to walk away and only just managed to hold back a shriek as I suddenly noticed the form of the redheaded woman -- Jean I think. I guess I should start learning their names at this point.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," she said, grinning at the fact she'd almost killed me. "How do you feel?"

Still clutching my heart, and keeping my voice low, I muttered, "Well, apart from the heart attack you just gave me, just a bit of a headache." I glared at her, but then remembered my manners, and added a tart, "Thank you for asking."

Jean raised an eyebrow at me. "Why are you talking so quietly?"

I looked back at the door I'd just come through and then jabbed a thumb towards it. I was hoping she could work out my meaning from the fact that my eyebrows where now huddled together confusedly.

I saw her eyes whizzing around, taking in the movement I'd just made and trying to decipher what it might mean. Then they widened in sudden realisation.

"Oh! Her? Don't worry about her; she's completely out of it." She smiled again and waved a hand dismissively at the door. "She's a heavier sleeper than you are. Believe me; that's saying something."

Great, the one time I don't fall over something and wake everyone up, I find out it wouldn't have done anything anyway.

"Come on," she said giving a half smile and nodding in a direction down the corridor. "I'll get you a hot chocolate and explain everything."

* * *

"Sorry we had to set you up on the lounge," Jean sounded genuinely apologetic. "We didn't have any rooms prepared. We weren't expecting to have you for another few days, let alone two new students in the middle of the night."

I nodded silently and followed her into kitchen.

"So, who is she?" I had to shade my eyes as we moved further into the brightly lit room.

Jean was busy digging in the highest cupboard, and so all I got in return was a distracted grunt of "Huh?"

"The girl in the room," I repeated a bit louder. "Who is she?"

"Oh," she said, jumping down once she'd finally found the cocoa. "Her name is Aisha Fawn. About an hour after you fell asleep, we got a distress signal from one of our team members, Wolverine."

Gee, what a friendly sounding name.

"He found her unconscious in the woods with the letters F.O.H. smeared on her forehead in pig's blood. It wasn't too far out of our way, so we stopped in and picked them up."

Wow. Suddenly I'm starting to think that maybe my life doesn't suck quite so bad.

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine," she stated calmly, pulling off the lid of the can and scooping some of its contents into a mug. "Our doctor, Hank, gave her a look over and said she'd be good as new after a few days of rest. She woke up for a little while. Just long enough for us to explain what was happening and for her to tell us her name. After that she fell asleep."

I'm not surprised. She would've had to have been pretty tired.

My eyes got huge as I remembered something that I hadn't asked yet that seemed pretty important. "Where are we?"

"Salem Centre, Westchester County, in the state of New York," she rattled off like it was something she'd memorised from a text book.

My eyes almost popped out of my skull.

"New York!?" I live in California, so I think my reaction was acceptable. "How long was I out?"

She took a deep breath and I could see the cogs of thought turning in her brain as she calculated her answer.

"Oh, I'd say a good… fourteen hours."

"Fourteen hours!?"

Fourteen? Seriously? Well, there's a huge chunk of my life I'm never getting back.

"There you go." She placed the mug before me and went to work putting the used ingredients away.

"Thank you." I didn't grab the mug straight away, instead opting to let the drink cool down first.

I pulled up my jumper sleeve and began absent mindedly picking at the dead skin on my forearm. I hadn't been able to do this at home, but I had always wanted to.

Jean looked over and asked in a generally conversational way, "Does it hurt?"

I glanced up and cocked my head to one side. "Um… not really." I had to think before I continued my answer, because I'd never really paid that much attention to it before. I just tried to imagine it wasn't happening. "It's not really a gross and hurty type of thing," I began. "I mean, obviously it's gross, what with my bone growing up through my arm and all- but it's not wet, and it doesn't bleed or anything. It's just sort of, dry and flaky and itchy. Like a rash."

Jean nodded to show that she understood and there was quiet once again as she finished packing up and I started drinking my hot chocolate.

It tasted exactly the same as my mum used to make it. There must have been some kind of innate knowledge in women for making good hot chocolate, because Dad never quite grasped the idea that hot chocolate is supposed to taste nice.

I wouldn't tell Jean, because she might take it the wrong way, but when I'd first woken up in that room, for one bright and shining moment, I'd thought it had all been a dream.

"I wouldn't blame you for wishing it never happened."

"Oh, so you're a telepath too." I gave her a seriously unimpressed look which had been polished to perfection by years of practice.

"Among other things."

By the tone of what she said, I think she got the vibe I was sending out that I didn't like the idea of people poking around in my private angsty thoughts. Y'know, or she could've just read my mind.

I didn't like it. They had no right to be messing with my head like that.

"I know, I'm sorry," she sighed, reading my thoughts AGAIN. "But, just remember that if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm all ears."

But that's just it. She obviously didn't get it. She was all ears, but I didn't know her. If I wouldn't tell my best friends this stuff, why would I tell a total stranger?

"But sometimes, that's what you need. A total stranger."

_"Get out of my head!"_

That wasn't a sentence I'd expected to say this week.

Jean looked a bit shocked at my snapping. "I'm sorry, Seven. I'll try and keep your thoughts to yourself in future."

Uh… what?

I mumbled an apology as well, but I wasn't really all that sorry about it. Some sick sadistic part of my mind kept playing the moment over and over again in my head and pointing out how much I'd sounded like Dad.

I dropped my eyes back down to my mug and took another sip, letting the kitchen drift into an uneasy stillness.

* * *

"You should probably try and get some more sleep." I must hand it to her; she is a very brave woman for breaking that silence. "The Professor wants Hank to take a look at you bright and early in the morning. Find out what the whole bone thing is about." She waggled a finger at my arm for emphasis.

I shook my head. "I think fourteen hours sleep is enough for one night. And besides," I smiled for the first time in what felt like years. "It's only a couple more hours 'till the sun comes up."


	4. Meeting the Family

Maybe if I'd known how many people were going to show up around breakfast time, I _would've_ gone back to bed.

Person after person poured in through the kitchen doors, talking and laughing at one another. They came so quickly it was almost impossible to take in any of their appearances.

I'm sure a lot of you have experienced what it feels like to start out at a new school and have everyone staring at you with the 'that's the new kid' look on their face. Well, I've found the one thing that's worse than that feeling.

That is, the feeling you get when you're new and not one person even acknowledges you.

It might not seem so bad, but the problem is the tension. You know that sooner or later, _someone_ is going to notice you, and give you that 'new kid' look, but you have no idea when it's going to start.

But I was trying to teach myself to look at the _positives_ instead of the negatives. Quite a hard task for a pessimist, but I was going to give it a shot anyway.

My positive for this situation would be that, with no one noticing me yet, I could take a good long look at each of the people sitting before me.

I swivelled on the bar stool I'd been using to sit at the bench and tried to memorise as many faces as I could.

The women were definitely outnumbered by the men.

Closer to me, there was a very loud, twenty-something in a Hawaiian shirt poking fun at a really tall muscular man who looked like he was about to stab him with a fork. Just next to them sat a short hairy man who looked incapable of smiling and a dark woman with stark white hair eating quietly, and exchanging only a few words here and there.

The group further away consisted of a woman with a hairdo that made her look like she was wearing either a skunk or a very small badger as a hat, and a man with five o'clock shadow and weird pinky-red coloured eyes. Also, how could I possibly forget to mention the man with the _huge white wings sticking out of his back_.

There were a few other people spattered around, but my eyes wouldn't stay on them for long, preferring the more – 'visually entertaining' of the bunch.

I was still in shock at some of these people's appearances (mostly just trying to cope with the wings), when, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Hawaiian shirt guy staring at me.

Oh crap, here it comes.

"Who are you?"

I hadn't noticed how loud it had been in the room until the noise suddenly stopped. It was so quiet; I think I could hear the short guy blinking.

"Uh…" I let out a stupid noise as all eyes in the room turned to look at me.

There was a dramatic pause as I tried to force some words to come out of my gaping mouth, but it just kept opening and shutting like something from a mini-golf course.

"This, Bobby, is Seven."

Yes! I was saved from having to answer when Tall-g- uh, I mean… oh no. What was his name?

"She's one of the new recruits we picked up in the jet yesterday."

Steve? Stanley? I know it started with an S. Or was it a C…

I felt my eyebrows rise as I leaned back towards S-name, speaking in barely above a whisper. "Are there always this many of you?"

"Sometimes more," he whispered back, freaking me out even more.

He cleared his throat; effectively getting everyone's attention back to him after they'd begun speaking again.

"Everyone, you have twenty minutes to eat your breakfast before morning drills start." He left the room to a chorus of groans.

What the hell are 'morning drills'?

* * *

"I _must_ thank you, Ms. Taylor. If it weren't for this appointment of ours, I would be stuck outside doing drills with the rest of them." He gave a deep growling chuckle as he adjusted his spectacles to get a better look at me.

I laughed along nervously for a minute before words splurted out of my mouth without permission.

"You're blue."

I kind of miss my voice not working.

Dr. McCoy stared at me blankly for a moment.

My positive for this situation would be that I was learning new things and gaining further knowledge of exactly what a mutation can do to a person's… _colour_ for example.

"Well, at least we can cross 'colour-blind' off the list," he muttered finally. He picked up a clip board and pen and ambled slowly towards me. "Now, Seven, because you're new, I will need to take all of your medical details. With the x-men, you will have to undergo a monthly examination to make sure you aren't being brainwashed by alien slugs, or anything of the sort."

I was still too startled by his skin tone for me to realise he was joking.

Seeing my worried expression, he quickly added, "But that kind of thing is very unlikely to happen."

So on he went with the examination, occasionally making smart-people jokes that I didn't get, so he had to laugh at them on his own.

I'd been there for about a half hour when he swivelled in his desk chair and pulled off his spectacles with a fanged grin.

"Well, Ms. Taylor, I think I may have identified your mutation."

I kept my mouth closed this time in the hopes that it would stop any comments about his fur popping out unexpectedly. Instead, I let my eyes do the talking.

And my mutation would be…?

"Judging by the growth pattern of the bones in your arm, and, in fact, all over your body, I'd say you have a more than good chance of having bone manipulation capabilities."

"What, so you think I'm willing this to happen?" Ah! Who let the guard down on my mouth?

"No, I think that your body is. A few weeks from now, going by the growth rate, the bones in your body will have extended above your skin in certain areas, creating a sort of natural armour to protect you."

Once again I found myself unable to think, or form words. All I had was a single thought circling around and around in my skull.

Great, complained the thought. I'm slowly turning inside out because my body thinks it's for my own good.

My positive for this situation would be – ah, screw it.

There _is_ no such thing as a 'silver lining'.

* * *

I spent the rest of the morning carefully avoiding everyone. I didn't really feel like being interrogated by anyone right now, and the Hawaiian shirt dude looked particularly like he wanted to grill me for information.

I grabbed some food stores from the kitchen cabinet Jean had been rifling through the night before and headed back in the direction of my temporary bed. It was just about the only place I knew how to get to. I'd already gotten lost twice today, because Jean forgot to mention, 'oh, by the way, we're in a mansion'.

I scuttled into the lounge room, trying not to drop anything and kicked the door shut behind me.

I threw all the stolen foods down on my make shift bed and just stood for a second.

Then I broke.

I guess it was just too much for me. One moment I was standing up perfectly fine, if not a little depressed, and the next my knees had buckled beneath me and I was on the floor in tears.

Everything I'd been holding back for the last two days suddenly came rushing out of me in one big go.

I can't say I didn't know why I was crying. Heck, with everything that's happened the last few days I think I was quite right to ball my eyes out. The thing I didn't know was why I was crying there and then instead of when the bad stuff was actually happening.

I guess that's one more thing I got from my dad. The initial reaction to just soldier through anything the universe throws at you until you're sure you're alone.

Problem was; I'd forgotten that I _wasn't_ alone.

I began mentally cursing myself as I heard a Texan accent coming from across the room. "Whoa, are you alright?"

Jean said she hadn't been too far out of the way. In what way was Texas 'not too far out of the way'?

There was a squeak from the sofa bed as the girl climbed off it to kneel down beside me.

Instantly, I sucked up all my emotions and locked them away like a pro. I blinked furiously, trying to make my eyesight come back into focus.

Forcing a smile through my now soggy and mucus covered face, I went to say 'I'm fine'.

A simple enough task, but apparently something still managed to get confused on the way to my mouth because what came out wasn't 'I'm fine' so much as the opposite.

"Not really." I sniffed. I concentrated and tried to correct my mistake. "It's just that a lot of stuff has happened in a very short period of time, and I guess I'm just having trouble handling it."

Okay… I had completely lost control over my vocal chords. I understood this to be a bad thing.

She put a comforting hand on my shoulder and spoke quietly. I think she might've guessed I was worried by the fact I pressed a hand to my throat, feeling to check if everything was still there.

"Sorry; it's kind of a side affect of being near me."

She sighed when I looked at her with a confused expression. "Let's just say, people find it hard to lie when I'm around."

Of course. It was her mutation. I should have known the universe wasn't going to let me forget the 'M' word, even for a second.

I looked back down at the floor again, feeling thoroughly uncomfortable after my little outburst. I didn't bother sniffing, this time opting to just rub my nose along my sleeve.

She spoke again, trying to break down the massive barrier of awkwardness that had just settled down between us.

"You must be Seven, huh?"

I tied to answer, but my throat was too clogged up with mucus from my crying spell for me to speak without sounding like Mickey Mouse, so I just nodded and gave a weak smile.

Of course, what I _had_ wanted to say was 'if you're a telepath and just read my mind, I WILL hurt you', but I didn't know how to say that using body language, so nodding and smiling would have to do for now.

"They told me about you last night when you were still asleep." At least I wouldn't have to kill her. "I'm Aisha," she added thrusting a hand towards me with a friendly smile.

I shook her hand and opened my mouth to grumble a 'nice to me you', but then I remembered that I couldn't lie, and thought maybe it was best to stay away from that sort of thing.

"Yeah," I cleared my throat, hearing my high pitched voice. I averted my eyes again. "They told me about you too."

Then she got really quiet and her grin dropped into a barely visible understanding smile.

"They told you what happened, didn't they?" It was more of a statement than an actual question.

I don't know why it made me feel guilty, but it just did.

"Yeah." Then the overwhelming need to defend myself took over. "But only a little bit, y'know. I mean, they didn't give me any details or anything."

She took in a deep breath and glanced towards the door as though someone was about to burst in to listen to our conversation.

"That's because _I_ didn't give _them_ any details." Her voice fell to a whisper and she leaned closer to me. "When they asked what happened, I pretended to pass out again."

Oh, so Jean doesn't read HER mind to find this kind of stuff out, that's just a privilege saved for ME.

She continued. "I _know_ I'm supposed to trust these people, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't know them."

I felt exactly the same way. Maybe this chick wouldn't be so bad to have around after all.

The tears had dried off by now, but my face was still red and blotchy. And also kind of itchy. Y'know, like your skin gets when you leave moisture on it for too long?

My eyes landed on my school bag sitting by my bed/lounge and I suddenly remembered that I was still wearing my clothes from yesterday.

"Uh, I think that I should maybe get changed." I announced, pointing towards my school bag. "It's just that I might start to reek after a week or two."

She smiled and nodded, which I assumed meant that I had permission to leave the conversation.

After I'd grabbed my clothes and was heading out the door, I heard her call one last thing.

"It was nice to meet you, Seven."

I smiled and turned back.

"Nice to meet you too, Aisha."

* * *

You remember the buddy system that teachers use to make sure no kids get lost on school excursions, right?

Well, I'm just starting to think that _maybe_ I should've thought of using that system.

I was lost again.

I don't quite know how it happened. It started with me taking a right where I should've taken a left, but when I realised and went to go back, I must have taken another wrong turn, because after five minutes of walking, I was now standing in a huge deserted metal corridor with big round doors sticking out from the wall every so often. I'd been down here once to get my check up with Dr. McCoy, but Jean had taken me down in an elevator.

I at least had enough common sense to think 'hmm, don't think this is the right place', and so I turned around to jog back up the stairs.

Problem with jogging up stairs is that you can't do it through solid objects, and the last time I checked; people were pretty solid.

As I turned, I walked smack bang into someone's chest. Rubbing my nose and grumbling under my breath, I opened my eyes to scowl at whoever it had been that blocked my path.

The first thing my eyes were met with was the light blue floral pattern of a Hawaiian t-shirt.


	5. At Least I'M Still Sane

_A/N:Thanks to everyone who's commented, and also thankyou to the people reading further than the first chapter. Hope you enjoy this chapter, but if you don't let me know. I need to know what not to do if I want to survive here, so every comment helps. _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"But Hank," the boy pleaded. "It wasn't like that! I was just giving her a tour of the holding cells."

I didn't make any attempt to hide the huge snort of disbelief which had escaped me. I was standing next to my new favourite fuzzy, blue doctor and wasn't planning on leaving his side for a while.

Some of the people in this place were freaks.

"Bobby, I advise that you never try to begin a career as a tour guide." Dr. McCoy was acting like this was a common occurrence, which sort of worried me. "I don't know about you, but most people would think that locking someone in the high security holding cell and refusing to let them out until they divulge all of their darkest secrets is NOT an acceptable way of leading a tour."

I stuck my tongue out at the older boy. By all means he should be a man by now, but what can I say; he just never grew up.

He scowled at me and looked like he was about to retaliate. Dr. McCoy must have seen it all brewing because he cut in before Bobby could say anything, stepping forward a little bit, and effectively creating a wall between us.

"Now, Bobby, if you'll be so kind as to please show Seven to an area where she actually CAN get changed."

Bobby was evil. You could see it in his eyes. It was only a matter of time before he snapped and killed everyone around him.

The mentally five year old turned to look at me with a huge grin stuck firmly on his smug little face.

"Of course," he said just a little TOO sweetly. "I'd be glad to show Seven where to go."

I instantly jumped closer to my fluffy body guard, both my hands snapping up and clutching onto the doctor's arm, pulling it in front of me for more protection.

Dr. McCoy sighed deeply.

"On second thoughts, perhaps I should escort her." He rolled his eyes. "If not to make sure nothing bad happens, than certainly because I'm unable to pry her off my arm."

* * *

I felt far more relaxed after Dr. McCoy showed me where the girl's bathroom was. I had a shower and got into some clean clothes and headed downstairs feeling much less gross on the whole.

I was also very proud of the fact that I only wandered through two wrong hallways on my return trip to the lounge/bed room.

I clipped the door firmly behind me and glanced over at Aisha, who was sitting on her bed exactly where I left her half an hour ago.

"Hey."

"Howdy," came the reply. It was a moment later as I was putting my dirty clothes back in my bag that her thoughts finally caught up with her mouth.

"What took you so long?"

I tensed up a little just thinking about it.

"DON'T ask." I warned.

"O… k?" Oh good. She wasn't one of those annoying people who don't know what 'don't ask' means.

My hair was still wet from the shower, so I tried tying it up in a ponytail before it could soak the shoulders of my t-shirt. Tried but failed; my shoulders were pretty well saturated.

"You like Charming Line?" I was slightly startled when the question was flung at me. I looked down at the multi-coloured face of Imogene Tykes standing out from the plain black of my t-shirt.

"Yeah, you know them?" They weren't exactly the most well known band in the world.

She grinned, a far more genuine smile then the kinds I'd been giving to people all morning and nodded enthusiastically. "I had the same shirt but in blue."

"Seriously? Oh yeah- dah; you can't lie. What's your favourite song?"

Don't worry; I'll spare you the boring details.

* * *

After who knows how long we were both sitting cross legged on her bed with the wrappers from all the foods I'd brought in lying in an untidy pile in between us.

"So, what's your mutation?" she asked fairly out of the blue, casually picking some of the sugary food from her teeth.

I felt that now familiar sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach again. I'd been enjoying having a _normal _conversation for once. Without anything to do with mutants and without anyone offering me a shoulder to cry on or advice on how to deal with my new lack of family.

_But_ I didn't want to drag the conversation down with me into the depths of moodiness, so I sucked it up and answered anyway.

"My body is basically rejecting my bones and forcing them to the surface because it thinks I need protecting." I presented her with my flaky forearm where the bone was coming through. "See?"

She barely even glimpsed the offending limb before she looked away and held a hand up to say that she got the point.

I rolled my eyes (I figured I was safe to because her eyes were still closed) and put my arm down again. I began fishing through an empty chip packet looking for any crumbs that might be left.

"But wait," her voice came again. I think she must've plucked up the courage to open her eyes, considering that she was now looking at me again. "If your mutation is only just coming out, then you must be pretty fresh. When did you find out?"

I scowled. Half because of the question, half because I couldn't find any more food.

"I dunno. I kind of had suspicions for a while, but I only found out for certain this morning."

She winced. "Man, that's gotta be rough. When I first found out, there wasn't near so much pressure as you're getting."

"Well, how long have you known about your mutation then?" Up 'till now I'd just figured she must've been a mutie-newbie just like me.

It surprised me when she had to pause and think about it. "Must be about four years now."

And she was about a year older then me, so she would've found out when she was, like, 13.

"Then how come it's taken you this long to get chased out of town by an angry mob?" I couldn't help but be a little jealous. I was kicked out five minutes into my new social status, and she got four years? How the hell was that fair?

"Well, I lived with my dad, see," she started off strongly. The way she spoke made it seem like she wanted to appear like she was fine with everything, but her honesty complex must've been working against her, because I could see she didn't like the memory.

"He didn't really care about—well, anything, I guess. My mum was the one who wanted to have kids and when she died, he just stopped giving a crap." Again she tried to appear like she didn't care, but I noticed her averting her eyes and fiddling with her socks.

"As long as he got to do his thing, I'd get to do mine. That was sort of the deal. Trouble was, 'his thing' had a lot to do with gambling. If I messed up one of his poker games, I was screwed." She attempted to make this seem like a joke and even threw in a smile, but it still didn't seem quite real. "Anyway, one day, he and his work buddies were playing poker and I was asked to bring in a new round of beers. My mutation hadn't really been a problem before, so Dad hadn't minded, but when Dad finally found himself unable to bluff, there were… consequences."

There were far too many silences within the last two days for it to be considered normal.

"But I thought you got beaten up and left for dead by the F.O.H." It took me a while to realise that the words had come from my mouth.

Damn it! I need to get my jaw padlocked shut or something.

"Nah." She laughed bitterly. "It was Dad. He got pretty angry about the whole poker thing, and we were arguing and eventually things just got out of hand and he pushed me. He didn't mean to really hurt me or anything; I just fell and hit the bench on my way down." I was surprised how quick she was to jump in and defend him after what she'd told me.

She turned and pulled her hair out of the way to show me the spot at the base of her skull where there was now a fairly nifty bruise as well as a pretty deep split in the skin. It was stitched up, but not looking much better than it would otherwise.

Now it was MY turn to look away and close my eyes. She was lucky she hadn't been paralysed.

Eventually she turned back and let me open my eyes again. "But anyway, I can't remember much of what happened next; it was pretty hard to stay conscious. I think he must've thought I was dead, and he freaked out. He didn't want to get in trouble, and I can't really blame him."

Fine, you don't have to. I'LL do it FOR you.

"He dumped me in the back of his pickup and threw a tarp over me and drove out into the middle of the woods, or some place. I was unconscious for most of the trip, so I don't really know, but I woke up again when the pickup stopped. He rolled me onto the ground and I blacked out again for a while. The last thing I heard was the engine in the pickup starting and then getting further and further away. Next thing you know, I wake up in a medical centre with a bunch of strangers staring at me and 'F.O.H.' dripping off my forehead in pig's blood."

She managed a more real smile this time, so I put in the effort to smile back, but now I was having trouble. How could she possibly be defending this man?

"If you think about it, it was really a smart move. He didn't want to get caught, so he pinned it on an anti-mutant group. I think it was a good plan."

What? Was she nuts? An unnatural grin lit up her face, and I could see the false hope in her eyes.

"I'd be going back there now, but I think it would freak him out even more to see me back from the dead, so I'm thinking I might just hang around here with you guys for a while."

Was this chick in denial or something? YOUR FATHER IS EVIL! Take the hint.

Oh, thank goodness she isn't a telepath.

"Aisha," I began, shaking my head. She couldn't lie, so she must actually believe this stuff. But she had to know. She couldn't keep thinking her father was a good guy deep down.

But before I could say anything else, someone had opened the door and stepped unsurely into the room. It was Tall-Guy-'S'-name.

He looked awkward and uncomfortable for a moment and then spoke. "The Professor would like to see you in his office as soon as possible, but considering neither of you know where that is, I'll be back in five minutes to take you there." He looked like he wanted to leave, but something was holding him there. You could practically see the debate he was having with his brain right then.

Eventually he won out.

"For the record, fatty and sugary foods aren't allowed."

You've GOT to be joking.

"Actually, I'd rather like to know where you got those." He added and nodded towards our trash pile, his eyebrows shooting above his sunglasses expectantly. Did he ALWAYS wear those things?

"They were stashed at the back of the highest cupboard in the kitchen." Hmmm. I'd been shooting for more of a 'none of your beeswax' type of answer.

"Thank you, Seven. I appreciate your honesty." He nodded and walked out of the room.

If looks could kill, Aisha would be dying a very, VERY painful death right now.


	6. Time for a Montage

_A/N: YES!! I made it! I made it through the writer's block alive!! AAAhhahahahahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHHAAAhaa! _

_I said alive, I never said sane. _

_So yeah, sorry for the wait anyone who cares. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter out a bit faster now that I'm in the writing mood._

* * *

My eyes watered as I tried to stifle a yawn. How could someone possibly make the subject of superheroes THIS boring? Maybe that was the professor's second mutation. Instead of appealing to our young imaginations, he just assumed we were scientists of some kind and gave us all this technical jargon to work with. I couldn't even count bottles of beer in my head because he stopped me every time I got to 94. Eventually though, I think he just gave up on trying to make me listen and explained it to Aish instead, who, as it seemed, was actually paying attention.

I, personally, was shocked and horrified by her blatantly obvious respect for authority.

Later on she explained it all to me in WAY more understandable terms. The mutants in the mansion were called the X-men (according to Xavier they were NOT superheroes, just super powered vigilantes), and downstairs was basically the Bat Cave. Why Xavier couldn't have just said that and been done with it, I have NO idea.

When I asked her how she could possibly pay attention to something like that, she told me that she always found it better for her to listen in case of a pop quiz, because she couldn't lie her way out of it. So I guess she can be excused of her earlier behaviour.

It also seemed that we would have to spend one more night in the lounge room. Tomorrow someone would be sent to buy what was needed for our rooms. Apparently we'd be too busy to go with them. Oh joy.

* * *

We skipped dinner that night, still full from our forbidden snack fest, and went pretty much straight to bed. Probably a good thing considering that we were woken up at 6 the next day.

I've decided I'm really not a fan of vigilante work hours.

Badger-hat Lady (she was the one sent to wake us up) took one look at me, narrowed her eyes, stuck her nose in the air and turned towards Aish.

She lightly tossed to her some light grey sweatpants and a plain white tank top with a big 'X' in a circle on the chest in the same colour as the pants.

"Today's your orientation, Sugah. You'll need to be dressed properly if you want to survive it."

She seemed friendly enough when she was talking to _her_.

Her eyes turned to glare at me coldly once again, she threw an identical set of training clothes at me with more force than I would have thought possible, almost knocking me off my feet before she promptly left the room.

Aish stared at me wide eyed.

"What'd you do to get on _her_ bad side?"

I blinked after the woman for another minute. I couldn't understand what had just happened.

"I haven't the foggiest."

* * *

I clumsily stumbled into the clothes, finding out very quickly that my limbs don't much like working at six in the morning. Aish was already dressed and waiting for me outside, so I only procrastinated for a couple of minutes before finally finding enough will power to open the door.

There she was, chatting to Jean. Jean who gave me an icy stare and seemed to be giving me the same sort of treatment as the badger lady. What the hell did I do?

Everything she said, while sounding like it was directed at both of us, was almost certainly being told only to Aisha. "Alright, we better get this tour on the road. I'm going shopping for your things with Scott in a little while. Come on."

_SCOTT_!! THAT was his name. I _knew_ it started with s.

Jean led us around through the halls of the colossal building (Xavier may seem humble and modest, but he is SUCH a show off when it comes to money) showing us the Game room, kitchen (for Aisha's benefit), sub basement, staff offices, bathrooms, the rooms which would soon be ours, and a quick round about of the grounds, tennis court, swimming pool, etc. before finally jostling us to our doom which had been waiting patiently for us in the gym.

Standing before us were possibly one of the oddest collections of people I've seen, _just_ falling short of my breakfast experience of the day before.

There were four people in the gym there with us. The exceptionally tall man who came dangerously close to stabbing Bobby in the eye, man with the pink eyes, short scary looking guy who smelled like cigars and was having a bad hair lifetime, and then another who I hadn't seen the day before. I tried not to goggle but it was no use. It wasn't the colour, I'd gotten over that after meeting Dr. McCoy. I think it was more to do with the arrowhead tail, pointed ears, three fingers on each hand and two toes for each foot, or maybe just the overall demonic appearance. I couldn't tear my eyes away until I noticed Jean was talking to us.

"Seven, Aisha; these are going to be your teachers while you're here. This is Peter,"

The tall man nodded.

"He'll be teaching Seven how to effectively use her natural body armour." What!? But I don't even have it yet! "Remy,"

He smirked in an amused way, speaking in an accent I couldn't place. "How do you do."

"He'll be working with Seven on her targeting skills and general projectile technique." Me again? "Logan,"

He grunted.

"He's our survival training and combat instructor. He'll be teaching both of you in basic fighting, tracking, and evading skills."

His eyes flicked to us for an instant and I could have sworn Aish edged just a little closer to me.

"And, finally Kurt."

The blue man gave a deep bow, tail waving about lazily behind him. "Guten Tag."

"He's not actually going to be one of your instructors, but we thought it best that you meet the school counselor before he disappears again." He smiled and let out a friendly chuckle.

"Well, if you have no further use for me, I will be going. It was a pleasure to meet you both."

And then he poofed away in a puff of smoke. Well, not really poofed, it was more like a sort of… bamf noise. After everyone had stopped coughing and gagging at the smell of sulfur and the last of the smoke had been waved away by frantic hands, I finally found myself able to complain freely.

"She gets one teacher and I get three? How's that fair?"

Mr. Logan (there was no way I was calling THAT dude by his first name) surprised me by laughing. Either that or growling, I can't quite be sure.

"You'll have three teachers, kid, but you'll still have four classes. You got two with me."

My mouth hung open with horror and Aish snickered quietly as she could beside me.

"Yes, Seven, Logan will also be teaching you how to trigger specific areas of voluntary bone growth."

I turned to her, appalled. "How's HE meant to help?"

It was a sad attempt at getting out of one extra class, but what can I say? I'm a sad person.

SNIKT!

I turned back to the man, eyes bulging out of my head. He had CLAWS. The dude had CLAWS.

"I might just know a bit more about it than you think."

He let his claws slide back under his skin, apparently satisfied by my tiny whimpering noise.

I gathered my scattered thoughts again as quickly as I could to work out another argument.

"And what happened to all the usual classes. Y'know, Maths, Science?"

"You won't be learning those things here. You've already been enrolled in a local school to take care of the rest of your mainstream education."

Great, another new school. This isn't going to go well. I only know how to interact with the creeps at my old school, not the general population.

"Well!" She said suddenly, clapping her hands and rubbing them together with a wide smile. "I have to be going now. See you all later this afternoon to find out how it went, ok?"

And she dashed out of the room, leaving us behind.

As though we were mirror images of each other, Aish and I both turned our heads slowly away from the door and back to our new tutors. The simultaneous sound of us swallowing practically echoed through the large empty space. Easy enough to say that we were slightly intimidated.

The fact that the teachers grinned at our reaction didn't help.

* * *

The rest of the day was a montage of different snippets of lessons. One moment Mr. LeBeau (Remy didn't feel right in my mouth) was making me toss cards into a hat and stressing to me the fact that his eyes weren't _pink_, they were "burning red", and the next thing I remember, Mr. Logan is trying to get me and Aish to spar.

His other lesson wasn't particularly helpful either. He kept telling me that it was "all about tensing the right muscles", only issue being that I didn't know which ones to tense.

Peter's class wasn't so bad. He understood that we couldn't do much until my bone plating had finally come through, so he explained to me what we'd be doing once it had, and talked me through some basic text book stuff.

By the end of the day, Mr. Logan's fitness training had us barely able to stand as we made our way VERY slowly out of the gym.

Jean nearly ran us over in the hallway.

"Oh," she said, eyes wide with surprise. "I was just coming to get you. You look like you've been working hard," she practically mocked, eyeing our sweat stains and reading the exhaustion in our faces.

I managed to scowl at her despite the immense pain my face muscles had to go through in order to achieve it.

"Your rooms are done if you want to come and see."

As we trudged along, finding it more than a little difficult to make it up the stairs and into the girls wing, she explained to us all the gory details of her day of shopping exploits.

The only part that caught my attention was the very part that worried me.

"I suggested it would be easier if we bought for one of you each, so I bought the things for your room, Aisha, and Scott bought the things for Seven's."

* * *

NEVER leave a rationally based man to shop for a teenage girl. EVER.

He'd bought everything he was meant to, I'll give him that. He'd just gone for cheapest possible without skimping on quality, resulting in the most mismatched bedroom I've ever seen. Light yellow blankets, with a dark dirty purple coloured pillow, all to match up with mint green walls.

I wasn't quite sure whether I should laugh or burst into tears, so I just remained in a stunned silence until I saw the computer. Jean must have seen me momentarily light up, because instantly she spoke.

"Charles provides a computer for all of the younger residents. For homework purposes mostly." I turned just in time to see her hiding a malicious smirk. "Don't worry; we got one of the younger recruits – Kitty – to have a fiddle with it. Block out anything that could be distracting to your work."

I almost _did_ burst into tears after that.

"Why?" I whispered. "Why are you punishing me?"

Jean smiled sweetly.

"Simple." She turned to leave and show Aish her room, calling back to me dramatically as she walked down the corridor. "You told Scott where our stash was."


	7. Noobs

_A/N: Alirghty-right then. At least I updated a bit faster this time. And by the way- WOO! I got my tenth review thanks to Winterwarrior, and of course to all of you for giving me my 1st through 9th_.

_There is a bit of a reference in this chapter to my friend Artistry11's comment that you might pick up on (that is in no way suggesting that it's subtle) and I did try and make this chapter a bit longer than usual to make y'all more content. _

_And sorry if it seems a bit bitsy. The chronology was a bit hard to get exactly right in my head._

_As always, read and review. Enjoy!  
_

* * *

Overall, the month following "orientation" was a pretty lazy one. I really started to settle into the mansion after that. Apparently the x-men had decided to let us get used to things before truly starting boot camp. I have my suspicions it was partially so that I wouldn't have the excuse of 'my armour isn't fully grown yet' to get out of classes.

Speaking of, over the next few weeks after the gym class of hell my mutation seriously started to kick into gear. It started with another patch of bone pushing its way to the surface on my other forearm. The patches began to appear on both my shins, then the backs of my hands; it was like new teeth were coming through all over me!

After the first week had passed, the plates on my forearms and hands had just about finished growing. As far as I could tell, most of the armour was just defensive. All except for the row of threatening, marble sized spikes that had grown from the knuckles of each hand.

I didn't like what was happening to me of course. All it did was remind me that every day I was a little less human and I had even less chance of getting to go home one day. But I just kept my mouth shut and slapped a cheesy smile on my face.

Other people had very different opinions, though.

Aish and Bobby seemed to think they were cool. Like my own personal built in knuckle dusters.

Dr. McCoy seemed to think the whole thing was some kind of miracle. He was giving me regular check ups to make sure everything was on track.

If I had a dollar for every time he said 'oh my stars' I'd be richer than the prof.

"And you're absolutely sure that you didn't feel any tightness in your hand whatsoever?" he asked for the billion and fourth time.

I clenched my jaw so that I wouldn't bite him, smiled and nodded.

"This should be impossible," he explained. "For this to be true, the plates on your hands would have had to have formed over night, detached themselves from the phalanges and begun to rise to the surface before morning. Realistically, you probably shouldn't be able to move your hand very much at all."

I'm not sure if he was quite catching onto the meaning behind my current facial expression, because he just kept talking.

"It is, perhaps, possible that we misjudged the level of control you could have over your own skeleton. Rapid bone growth and detachment is certainly possible, though I would have thought it fairly unlikely at such an early stage of manifestation. Quite frankly, I think it's incredible."

"Yeah, that's uh- that's real nice, there," I couldn't even force any interest into my voice as I took my chance to cut in. "Listen, Doc, I was wondering; you said I'd be getting the body armour, but what's with the fighting gear?"

I held out my hand and waggled my fingers, forcing his attention to my knuckles. He looked a bit disappointed that he had to stop fretting about my phalange miracle.

"I'd say it's purely an intimidation technique. You should be finding a few of those, most likely in areas of bone concentrate where no vital organs are present."

"What do organs have to do with anything?"

Wuh oh. I saw his eyes light up as I invited him to talk again. You ask this man a simple question and he gives you an hour long scientific explanation.

"Well," he began dramatically, standing and walking over to a diagram of the human skeleton he had hanging on the wall. I wonder if it's always there, or just for my visits… "So far, the physical evidence has shown that in areas, such as your arms and legs, where vital organs are absent. The bone has risen above the surface of the skin to form visible slabs of armour as a form of protection. However it would seem that the regions surrounding your vital organs, especially the lungs, heart and brain, you have subconsciously concentrated on strengthening the bones, creating an impenetrable shell _inside_ the body rather than forcing an outward one. Your skull has become extremely hard, practically unbreakable, while your rib cage has closed off, leaving no gaps or weaknesses anywhere. I have no idea how you're still able to breathe in this condition."

It took me a while to snap back into consciousness and realise that he'd stopped talking.

"So, what you're saying is," he looked a little too hopeful that I might have learned something. "That I'm pretty much invincible?"

He sighed deeply. "No, Seven. A slip of a bone could easily sever a major artery, or puncture a lung or something equally as important. You're also very susceptible in the gap between your rib cage and pelvis."

"What? Why?" Ok, so I was a little cheesed I didn't get to be invincible, wouldn't you be?

"Because," he gestured again to the diagram. "You have very few bones within that space, and the bones above and below are busy strengthening the body within their own vicinity. Far too busy to be worried about your stomach."

He chuckled and looked at me expectantly. I stared blankly at him.

He coughed and quickly went back to talking again. "However, it's very unlikely that you'll ever break a bone, and if you do you could most likely seal the fracture instantaneously." He grinned at me widely.

I looked a little dissatisfied and decided to go for one more shot at getting some cool side affects.

"That's it?"

"And," he said with a smirk that said I would be pleased with what followed. "You'll most likely never have to go to the dentists again."

My cheering could probably be heard all the way to the tennis courts.

* * *

"So, what _did_ you do with it? Bobby thinks you took it out into the woods and burned it."

"I don't like you hanging around with that boy," I said in my best irritating mother tone, marching towards my bedroom with the Texan hot on my heels.

"Don't change the subject. What'd you do with it?"

Aish was _completely_ exploiting her ability to make people tell the truth.

She wanted to know how all the furniture in my room had "mysteriously disappeared". I'd thought I was home free once I managed to get past Jean's telepathy, but I'd forgotten about the other newbie. It was lucky for me I'd found a way around her truth field as well. Just because you can't LIE, doesn't mean you necessarily have to tell the TRUTH. All you have to do is talk about something completely different (but still truthful) until she was out of range.

She was out of range just as soon as I dived into my room and slammed the door behind me.

I smiled to myself as I thought of the oddly coloured bed now sitting in the homeless shelter down town.

And when the mysterious disappearance occurred, I was permitted to go and make choices myself, as I wasn't going to be too busy that day. Ha!

I couldn't do much for the colour of the walls, but I managed to cover most of it with posters of various celebrities, most of whom I didn't know, with the exception of the occasional Charming Line poster which Aish kept trying to steal.

My bed was a simple blue one which reminded me of my bed back home, and I'd outdone Aisha's bean bag with a cushy, old leather chair from the op-shop which tried to swallow you every time you sat in it. I'd gotten over the computer thing by begging Kitty until she at least let me have my email back.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on these facts!

I had to plan… for my REVENGE!!!

* * *

I chewed loudly at the biscuit, letting some crumbs fall to the floor.

Jean looked up confused to see what I was doing, her eyes quickly narrowing as understanding dawned.

"Mm-mmm," I hummed as she scanned my face to see how easily I'd back down. The answer was 'not very'. "This biscuit is just so, SO good, y'know?"

"Where did you get that?"

I swallowed, ignoring her question and continuing with my in-depth description. "It's like it's crispy on the outside, but it still melts in your mouth, I just- I just can't explain it. You'll just have to try one for yourself. Oh wait!" I slapped myself on the forehead as if I hadn't been aware. "You'd have to know where the stash is for that to work wouldn't you."

I turned to leave and felt a light tugging at the edges of my mind.

Time for phase two of my plan; the telepath repellant.

As loudly as I could inside my skull I began to drive her away with the _unimaginable power of singing_.

KARMA KARMA KARMA KARMA KARMA CHAMELEAN!! YOU COME AND GO! YOU COME AND GO-OO-O-OH!

I held back a triumphant grin as I glanced back and saw her face practically contort in agony.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

Give the mutation a few more days and I had two pointy lumps coming up on my back, either side of my neck. Dr. McCoy said they were probably another form of intimidation, an extension of my shoulder blades.

Actually, he said scapula, and I'd had to look up what that meant. You learn something new everyday.

Another day and they'd broken the skin and were growing quickly. These ones did hurt, rather than being just itchy and flakey. The flesh around them was especially tender; I had to sleep on my stomach for a week.

Two weeks into living at the mansion, and my armour was just about finished cooking. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was a completely different person. If you could call me that.

I had massive hunks of bone showing on my shins, forearms, hands, and the top of my thighs as well as the skeletal version of shoulder pads protecting my ever so delicate shoulders. Seriously; why the shoulders but not the knees or elbows? Does that make any kind of sense to you, 'coz I'm at a loss.

Anyway, it looked like the knuckle barbs and the massive spiny type blocks of bone rising up from my back and resting beside my head on either side were the only parts of the armour designed to actually scare people off (although, I'm sure the rest of it would do that just fine in a casual public setting). At least, I _guessed_ the spiny things were just scary looking. They seemed pretty useless thus far, and were too close to my back to really stab or bash anyone to death with, so yeah, I was pretty sure.

I started singing Boy George in my head again as a precautionary measure while I slipped my hand into the hidden compartment in the back of my wardrobe to fish around for a packet of chips.

I'd been asked to go to the professor's office, which didn't bode well. I think we all remember what happened the last time I was called to the principle's office, don't we?

As I walked and ate my chips, I made sure to take a detour past Jeans room so that she could take a look at my tasty treat.

Before I could even knock on Xavier's door, I heard him call softly, "Come in, Seven."

Note to self: use telepath repellant on the professor.

* * *

I stared at the object he'd handed me. It _looked_ like just an ordinary watch. What was I supposed to do with it?

"This, Seven," Xavier began, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, probably at the cluelessness of my thoughts. "Is called an Image Inducer. We've decided that it would be best for you to have one before you start school in a few days."

My eyebrows raised, but I'm not sure whether it was because I didn't know how to react to the present, or if it was from the shock that I'd be starting a new school in a few days.

When exactly were they planning on telling us?

I fished around for a suitable reply and eventually came up with, "Cool."

Then I thought again, and decided it was best to ask now, rather than later.

"What does it do?"

He smiled and chuckled warmly at my ignorance before answering. Actually, now that I think about it, he didn't really answer at all.

"Put that on, go stand in front of that mirror," he said, practically gesturing to the full length mirror in the corner of the room with his eyebrows. "And press this button." He pointed out which part of the watch I was meant to be pushing, and nodded as if to tell me to get a move on.

I hesitated before stepping in front of the mirror. I wasn't a huge fan of my reflection at the moment. I took a calming breath, slipped the inducer onto my wrist and took the step I needed.

There was my reflection. Bones sticking out at weird angles, some even sticking out at normal ones. I was disappointed deep down that I hadn't magically changed back somehow. I looked back at the prof.

"What now?" I don't think I quite ironed out all the bitterness before I spoke.

A hint of worry showed on the bald man's face, but he simply nodded once and said with a touch of reluctance audible in his voice, "Press the button."

I turned back to my own image and cautiously pressed my finger down.

My jaw dropped, and I'm sure my eyes lit up. I was me again. All of my bones were on the inside where they should be, I didn't have anything remotely vicious looking sticking out from my knuckles; I was normal.

I reached one tentative hand back to feel behind my head, and yelped as it unexpectedly hit something hard. The spines.

It wasn't real. It was just a hologram.

"The image inducer can only change your appearance, Seven. It can't change who you are."

See, _this_ was why I didn't want people reading my mind.

I walked straight to the door, turning back only for a fraction of a second to mumble a thank you to the professor.

I didn't turn the image inducer off. Not yet.

* * *

Aish eyed me carefully; either still curious about my new bedroom set up or trying to work out why my armour had gone missing for the last three days. I ignored her and shrugged my shiny new back pack further up onto my shoulders as we got out of the car and stood outside our new educatory building, too nervous to actually go in. School bags, books, pencil cases and the rest had all been provided for us, despite the fact I had my old bag with me still.

"Apparently we'll be getting another batch of new comers this afternoon," she began, suddenly in the mood to strike up a conversation after five minutes of silence.

"Seriously?" I asked, feigning interest. Hey, it's not lying if it's in question format.

Personally, I wasn't too interested in another few pimply faced teenage mutants reminding me what I was all the time, ESPECIALLY when I've just found a way to drown it out.

"Yeah, Bobby gave me the inside scoop." I think she did realise I wasn't too fascinated but just kept talking anyway. "I think it's about time we weren't seen as the newbies though. I mean, it's been over a month, how long could that last?"

Wow. A month. A month since I'd lost everything and a month of avoiding people around the halls of the mansion. The only people I talked to without being forced were Aish, Jean and Dr. Hank. That can't be seen as socially healthy.

"We gonna go in?" she asked, looking like she was on the verge of deciding to just turn tail and run.

I swallowed. "Guess we're gonna have to."

She turned to me with a solemn expression and reached out to shake my hand.

"It was nice knowing you, Seven."

I mirrored her actions, but with a far more troubled face.

"Likewise."

We shook hands and marched determinedly through the school gates.

* * *

"Traitor."

Aish didn't have time to react before she was hit in the face with my toy dog.

She was on the cushy leather chair with very few throwable items, whereas I had the bed and plenty of ammunition. I figured I had the upper hand.

"Well, maybe if you had spoken to someone at all today…" she trailed off, grumbling as she pried Atticus off her.

We'd made a deal. Did that mean NOTHING to her? We were meant to stick together on the first day because we were both new. By the end of the school day Aish, 'the cool new kid from Texas', had made friends with practically the entire student body while I hung around awkwardly in the background. Being within a twenty metre limit of her did NOT count as sticking together.

Did they not get cheesed when they couldn't lie about homework?

Maybe this was an over reaction of sorts, but there was no way in hell I was going to admit that.

"I did," I huffed, aware that my immaturity had no bounds at this moment and got up to get some chocolate bars from the cupboard, humming the usual tune loudly in my skull. "I said hi to the cafeteria lady."

I poked a triumphant finger at the turncoat and bit off a large portion of chocolate from the bar in my other hand.

"Oh shut up," she said pegging Atticus back onto my bed with far more force than necessary.

* * *

My mouth hung open as I turned into the hallway my bedroom was located on. I felt panic start to rise up in my chest as I saw the heavy cardboard boxes being carried out of the room by two of the men living at the mansion. Had I done something wrong? Were they kicking me out already?

I couldn't have been in Aisha's room begging for her forgiveness for more than two minutes, and THIS happens?

I managed to kick my muscles back into gear and get my legs working again, going over every tiny miniscule action I'd made since I got here.

Oh no! Maybe they found out about they furniture and Scott got upset.

That theory (I thought it was a pretty good one) was quickly put to rest as I heard Scott's own muffled voice strangle out from behind the latest of the boxes to wander out the door.

"How much did she get?"

"Hey look, I found more over here!" Bobby was helping them forcibly remove me? That's just cold (excuse the pun).

I couldn't do anything but stand and watch helplessly while they removed the sealed boxes, utterly confused about what could possibly be in them.

I heard a chuckle beside my right ear and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Jean there, looking smug.

"Oh, just a few snacks we happened to find hidden in the nooks and crannies of your bedroom."

I stared, mouth wide simply shocked that she'd do something so heinous.

"You honestly didn't think I wouldn't get suspicious if you where shrieking song lyrics in you head every time you reached into the wardrobe, did you?"

"How could you do something like this?" I choked out, still aghast.

She smiled, holding back another evil chuckle at her own little joke. "Well, there's no way you were going to get away with it. It just wouldn't be fair to anyone else in the mansion."

How could someone so old be so immature? I thought Bobby was bad, but this was just plain weird.

She didn't seem impressed with the 'old' comment in my head. Both our eyes narrowed and my usual stubbornness returned with new found vengeance.

"Oh, it's on." I refused to blink before she did. "You're goin' down, Red."

She smirked and turned to walk away.

I bet she just REALLY needed to blink.

* * *

"Come on."

Aisha crossed the room in less than a second and grabbed me by the wrist. For a moment I was scared she was going to hurt me, and so was more than a little shocked when her face lit up with a big grin and her eyes glinted in the dim light of the forty watt bulb overhead.

"The noobs should be arriving now."

She pulled me out the door with such force that I think I left one of those cartoony dust clouds behind me.

We suddenly halted to a bumpy stop and the top of the huge staircase in the lobby. Just being led in by domineering looking Scott was a pack of shaggy new mutants.

Well, only one of them was shaggy really. A boy of about fourteen in a blue jacket with the collar up and a backpack slung over one shoulder. He had a huge floppy mass of light brown hair that managed to stick out in every direction and still hang in front of his eyes. The boy had to keep flicking it out of his face in order to actually see.

The next person my eyes were drawn to was an older girl, at least nineteen, who seemed a little nervous. She was dressed in simply a long sleeved top with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a pair of jeans with a skirt over top. She had her hair tied back and covered by a bright red backwards baseball cap.

Finally there was a boy who made Scott look like a nine inch action figure. The only reason I could think for why I hadn't noticed him first was that he seemed to have just arrived having brought the luggage of the whole group in with him (except for shaggy's backpack).

He was massive; at least seven foot, but without looking too bulky or muscular. He dropped the other two suitcases on the marble floor but held the one which I assumed was his own under one arm as though it was a kid's toy. I looked him up and down, fascinated that any appearance could still surprise me, but there was something tugging at the edge of my memory, some _hint_ of recognition. But not one thing about this boy seemed familiar.

For starters, he appeared to be made of some kind of black, volcanic rock, making it very difficult to distinguish where each part of him started or stopped due to every inch of him being the same colour of pitch and, apparently, defying any hint of shadow or light that tried to touch him. His hair (Also black. SURPRISE!) was cropped short leaving nothing to get in the way of his glowing red eyes. Two horns grew from his forehead, folding back elegantly to rest just above the top of his head.

Then it hit me.

I remembered those horns.

I'd seen them almost every day of my old life and the thought made me feel sick to my stomach.

The boy gave me the once over with a disgusted look.

"Hello, Seven."

His voice was a lot lower than I remembered. I guess everything had changed a lot since I'd last seen him.

"Nathan?"


End file.
